A Pirate's Emotions
by The Short Story Players
Summary: Based on a quote from The Tempest about a teeange pirate crew. What happens whaen the first mate and only girl on the Red Lightning realizes that her emotions can sometimes control her? Rated T for strong language and grisly descriptions. R&R please!


Hey people! Here's my latest story, A Pirate's Emotions. It is rated a strong T for erm...coarse dialogue and graphic details. Don't read it if you have a weak stomach and don't like blood.

Reviews please!!! Reviews are like pie with whipped cream...and a nice cup of coffee. Yay caffeine addiction. Don't criticize me, that's what keeps me writing.

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**A Pirate's Emotions**

Prospero: Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.

The Tempest, Act I, Scene II

Danny leaned over the railing of the Spanish Galleon cleaving the blue waves of the Caribbean. He stared out at the horizon, imaging the next time they would make port. He imagined the smell of the palm trees and blossoming pineapple. He could hear the waves slapping against the quay and the clamor of Spanish, French, Creole, English and African blending into the tongue of the market place. He smiled to himself at the trouble his shipmates would get into and the beating they would receive from the quartermaster.

The sun glittered on the rolling waves as the heavy black sails billowed in the steady east trade winds. On the horizon, a black speck was just visible. After five minutes of observing, the speck grew larger and resolved into the shape of a ship. Danny heard a voice from behind him.

"What are you looking at?" He turned around to see a girl with bright green eyes, long red hair tied back in a braid, a red bandana covering her head. She wore a canvas shirt with the sleeves cut off and the neckline adjusted to accentuate her…feminine shape. Her wide-legged trousers were cut just above her ankles to reveal her bare feet.

"There's a ship on the horizon," he said, pointing to the west, where the shape of the ship was becoming more clearly defined.

The girl, who was called Pixie because of her spritely appearance, took a spyglass from the pouch at her hip. She extended it toward the horizon and peered at the approaching ship. "Damn an' blast," she muttered in her thick brogue.

"What?" asked Danny curiously, "What do you see?"

"That ship isn't flyin' any colors."

"So? We aren't flying any colors either."

"Well isn't that the bleedin' point?" She screamed, "We're pirates! They aren't flying any colors because they too, are pirates!"

"Shit."

Pixie ran to the quarterdeck where the captain stood at the wheel, steering them toward the warm docks of St. Thomas.

"Captain," she shouted up to Black Jack. Jack was about two years older than Danny, who was almost sixteen. He had the scruff of a young man who spent his whole life at sea, his sun-tanned, weather beaten face calm, yet alert.

"Yes, Pixie?"

"Thar's a ship what's flyin' no colors out to the port side, they're comin' on us fast."

"Damn it all," the young captain muttered, "can't we make port once without having someone try and stop us? All hand on deck!" He shouted, "I want squads one, three and seven preparing to board the ship with me. Squad five, go below deck manning the cannons. Squads two, four and six stay here with First Mate Pixie. Go!"

There was a flurry of movement as teenagers of various ages scrambled up on deck and others descended into the bowels of the ship to man the cannons. Each squad was made up of around ten crewmembers each. Danny ran to the forecastle to lead squad three in the attack against the oncoming ship.

"Hoist up the colors!" Shouted Jack as he took his place on the main deck with squad one.

Little Jesse ran to the main mast and ran up the flag of the _Red Lighting_; a black background with a white grinning skull crossed in the back with two bolts of red lightning.

The opposing ship was close enough now to see that they too had raised their colors. Upon the main topmast there flew the flag of the Black Duke Geoffrey. The flag featured a skull-and-bones decoration with one difference; the skull wore a tri-corn hat. The ship pulled up along the port side of the _Lightning_. The crew of the opposing ship, the _Dastardly Wench_, gathered on the starboard side of the ship. Their ranks parted and through the gap in the crowd swaggered the Black Duke himself, Geoffrey of Winchester. He had gotten in a fight with his cousin, the real Duke of Winchester, after he gained the title, and he gave Geoffrey two long scars running down his jaw.

"Geoffrey, you dog," Jack called amiably, hanging from the rope netting that allowed crewmembers to climb to the crow's nest, affectionately called "shrouds". "Let my crew pass unmolested, we are just a few leagues from St. Thomas, can't we settle this like civilized men at port?"

"I would concede to that offer, Black pup," taunted the grizzled captain, "if there were men instead of children upon that leaky junk you call a ship."

"I warn you, Geoffrey, my crew is more than able to take on your poxied, rag-tag group of petty thieves and deserters!"

"I highly doubt that Jack, as your crew is nothing more than a ragged group of snot-nosed runaway little boys."

A throwing knife whistled through the air from one ship to another, landing two inches away from the tip of Geoffrey's boot. Pixie stalked to the front lines of pirates on the main deck.

"Excuse me, Mr. Black Duke, _sir_," she spat, "I believe I've dropped my knife on the deck of your ship. May I have it back?"

"Ah, Jack, maybe you do have sense after all, you brought a wench along for your voyage," he turned to Pixie, "Why don't you come over here, love? We can show you a much better time."

The crew of the _Dastardly Wench_ laughed bawdily. Everyone on the _Lightning_tensed, hands on their swords. They knew that Pixie was the last girl to patronize, as a few had experienced themselves. Patches of pink appeared on her freckled cheeks as she whipped another dagger out of her belt and hurled it at the Duke, whipping off his tri-corn hat.

"How dare you," she hissed through gritted teeth, "I promise you now, that if I ever come aboard that wretched, thrice-accursed ship and a single man touches me, I will happily and with great joy slice his male anatomy from the rest of his pitiful, dirty corpse, and then dispatch him. Am I clear?"

A few men on the opposite ship glanced back and forth between one another, but the Black Duke seemed intrigued by the fiery red-head. "Then maybe you and I can meet alone when you make port in St. Thomas, then lass?"

Pixie pulled a third knife out of her belt and threw it, with deadly accuracy between the pirate captain's legs. The man toppled over, gripping the knife, from which a scarlet stain was spreading across the front of his trousers. Pixie spat over the edge of the ship, "And may the curse of Mary Malone and her nine blind illegitimate children chase you so far over the hills of Damnation that the Lord himself can't find you with a spyglass." And with that she returned to her place leading squad four

"Gah!" He gasped, "Get over there and bring the little Irish bitch to me so I can beat her at my pleasure."

Jack, who was still hanging from the shrouds called out to his crew, "On my signal, execute the delta formation." The delta formation involved a count to ten, and then the cannons would fire. At twelve, squad one would boar the ship. At fifteen, squads three and seven would board. At twenty, squad five would come back up from below deck and board the ship. The numbers were counted silently by the crew, so it had the element of surprise.

As the opposing crew prepared to board, Jack called out "One!"

Danny thought to himself, _two…three…four…five…six…seven…eight...nine..._

_Bang_! The cannons went off with perfect timing. The crew across the watery gap was shaken, but continued their work Squad one laid down boarding planks and crossed the gap with skill. Jack grabbed a rope hanging from the forward boom and swung into the heart of the action.

Danny kept count, _thirteen…fourteen…fifteen_, "Go, go, go!" He shouted to his group. He, Little Jesse and Kevin laid down the boarding planks in exact timing with squad seven on the quarterdeck. They crossed the space quickly. After doing this for almost three years, the height and rushing water still unnerved Danny a bit. He jumped off the plank and entered the fray, unsheathing his cutlass and joining the fight with a burly man with long greasy black hair hanging in tendrils over his face. Danny expertly parried the man's clumsy blows, then deftly thrust a few times, leaving the man with a deep cut on each forearm and a long gash across his belly. He grunted as he clutched at his stomach, blood spreading across his shirt.

Danny ran through the fray, looking to see if anyone needed help. He saw Jack skillfully fencing three men at the same time. "Mind if I cut in?" Danny called to his captain and started dueling a small man with black eyes and a tattoo that spread down his face and his left arm.

"No, I was really fine," Jack called jokingly, "I sent John, Carl and Jesse down to the hold to see what they could find. No doubt the Rat Duke has some loot, otherwise why would he be making port?" With three quick jabs, he sliced an "X" into the face of one man, and severed the tendon on the inside of the right arm of another, impairing his ability to fight.

Danny sliced his opponent's cheeks cleanly and turned to his captain, "Shall we start to draw back?"

"Hmm, probably," he ran to the quarterdeck and stood on the railing, "Attention crew of the _Dastardly Wench_," he called gleefully, "we have clearly beaten your crew. We have castrated your captain and are currently plundering your hold. We will be leaving now. Thank you for your generous hospitality and I hope we get to do this again." He swept off his hat in a grandiose bow, "If the crew of the _Lightning_ could please return to the ship, we will continue on our way to St. Thomas. Savvy?"

He jumped down off the banister, onto the mizzen boom, grabbed a rope and swung back to the deck of the _Red Lightning_. Carl, John and Little Jesse returned, each carrying two or three bags full of loot. Jesse grinned, "We basically cleared them out. Are we going back now?"

"That's the captain's plan," Danny replied.

"Right," replied John, and the three of them crossed the boarding planks loaded down with various amounts of loot.

Danny surveyed the damage. There was no real harm done, the crew of the Red Lightning didn't often raid to kill. He saw one of Pixie's knives pinning a tri-corn hat to the heavy planks of the deck, and another still in the floor. He pulled them up and examined the tips, they were in perfect condition; that would make Pixie happy. He heard a soft moaning to his right. There, slumped against the starboard railing of the ship was the Black Duke sitting in a pool of his own blood, Pixie's dagger still protruding from the front of his pants. Danny reached down, grabbed the dagger and twisted it out. The captain let out a high-pitched yelp of pain. "That's what you get for messing with Pixie," he said quietly.

Danny was one of the last to cross back to the _Lightning_, and as a result, took in the plank he crossed over on. Black Jack waved to the opposing crew, "Thanks again gents," he called, "give my regards to the captain." Jack sat down on a barrel and addressed the trio of plunderers, "And what did the rat duke have in his hold?"

"We reckon around a hundred-thousand guineas," replied John, hefting a sack. The crew whistled appreciatively. "They were already in these bags, so we untied one to see how much was in it."

Jack did some quick math in his head, "Everyone gets a thousand guineas, Pixie gets two for that excellent shot at the captain and the extra two thousand goes to the crew stores for supplies." He looked around, "Where is Pixie anyway?" he asked.

Someone called out from the shrouds, "She said she would be in her quarters and that no one was to disturb her."

Jack looked troubled for a moment, then looked at Danny, "See if you can go talk to her," he suggested.

Danny crossed behind the young captain and opened the door where the captain's quarters usually were. At the end of a short hallway, there were two doors. The left one led to Jack's suite and the right one led to Pixie's room. As first mate and the only girl, Jack had decided that it would be best if Pixie had her own room.

Danny knocked on the door, "Pixie," he called, "it's Danny. Can I talk to you?"

He heard footsteps from across the room, then from the other side of the door, "What is it?" Pixie asked, sounding upset.

"Jack's dividing up the loot, and he was wondering where you were, considering you got an extra share."

He heard the click of the lock, and the door opened a crack, "Come in."

Danny walked into the room. He had never seen Pixie's quarters, so he did not expect what he saw in the first mate's room. He had always known her as a strong female, like a man with long hair and a higher voice. What he saw astounded him. The entire back wall was a bay window on the stern of the ship. The right wall was covered in a bookshelf filled with all sorts of books. The bed was made all in pale lavender, the sheets, comforter and pillows all varying shades of violet. He turned to face his friend and was greeted by another surprise. Pixie was wearing a dress, and her long red hair flowed freely down her back.

She smiled at him, "Surprised?"

Danny was speechless. The dress was a simple, yet elegant gown that just reached her ankles. It was made of cotton the exact color of her eyes. And her eyes had tears in them.

"Pixie," he asked alarmed, "why are you crying? Did they hurt you?"

"They didn't hurt me," she said, "they made me realize something."

"What?" he asked confused.

She walked over to the soft bed and put her head in her hands, "I'm weak," she whispered, "those things he said really bothered me, and they shouldn't. I'm the first mate. I shouldn't be bothered by taunts from other captains."

Danny was shocked, he sat down next to her and took her in his arms to comfort her, "No," he said, "you're not weak, you're the strongest one out of the entire crew. Without you, the ship would fall apart."

"No, I'm weak," she cried into his shoulder, "I shouldn't get emotional like this." She wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face in his shirt, "And this shouldn't make me feel better."

Danny held her tighter and whispered into her hair, which smelled like coconuts, "Everyone has emotions; you need to realize them and accept them."

"I don't want to recognize the emotions that make me irrational," she said quietly, "I don't like them. They frighten me."

Danny shushed into her ear, "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm right here."

She looked up at him, "You're right, I'm being silly," she looked into his eyes, "thanks."

He grinned, "Any time."

She stood up, wiped her eyes and turned to him, "I need to go talk to our illustrious captain about finding a decent blacksmith in St. Thomas, I lost three of my best knives today."

"No you didn't," Danny jumped up, "I've got them right here." He held out the three daggers he retrieved from the _Dastardly Wench_.

She beamed at him, "Thank you, Danny. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He grinned, "Probably go on with a perfectly normal life and end up with your own ship."

"Well," she sighed, "as normal as the life of a pirate can be."

"True," he conceded, "we should be in St. Thomas in a few hours, are you going to change?"

She thought for a moment, "No," she said, "I think I'll stay in this dress."

"What if someone makes another comment?"

"I'll beat the living daylights out of them," she said matter-of-factly, "just because I'm wearing a dress doesn't mean I'm not wearing my belt."

"Now that's the Pixie we know and love."

She buckled on her belt and they walked hand-in-hand back to the rest of the crew on the main deck.

~~B

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Awww, see? I can write happy endings! No, Black Jack is not based on Jack Sparrow.

Write ya later!


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